Fracture
by DearCassius
Summary: Liam Watson got a lot more than he bargained for when he became best friends with Sadie Hooper. And now, with a looming threat against the safety of his school, a deadly club full of gingers, a new teacher with a vengeance to fulfill, and the always mysterious past of his dad, things are about to get so much more dangerous. Sequel to "Mirrors".
1. I Become a Roof Jumper (sort of)

**WARNING: This is the sequel to 'Mirrors', another story of mine. I HIGHLY recommend reading it before you read this one. Thank you!**

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**Chapter 1: I Become a Roof Jumper (sort of).**

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Hello, all! Um, I see people have decided to continue reading this online journal thing of mine. That's nice to know. Oh, and thanks for all the positive feedback on my last entries. I've decided to group this thing into, like, sections based on cases and stuff, basically.

Right, right, for those who are new, my name is William Watson, but I go by Liam. My dad (he's a doctor) suggested that I start recording things that happen to me ever since we moved from London to New Hampshire. And let me just say, there is a _lot _happening around here; much more than I could ever have anticipated.

Anyways, on with the show – erm, story.

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I felt like a bird.

I could see for miles. In fact, I bet I could see all the way back to London from up here. Well, okay, maybe not _that _far, but to be fair, I was pretty high up.

The city of East Linford spread all around me. People looked like dolls. Trees looked like… erm, smaller trees. I was higher than all the other buildings surrounding me. I was powerful. I was tall. I was on top of the world.

Okay, okay, not _really. _I was just on top of my four-story school building, Linford Middle School, keeping hold of a spool of skinny, copper wire as my best friend and locker partner fed it through the ventilation system. Every now and then, I'd feel a tug on the wire, and so I'd unravel it a bit more.

Sadie hadn't bothered explaining exactly what the wire was for, and I hadn't bothered asking. It was probably for something dangerous and slightly illegal, as were most of the things she did.

I did wish she'd hurry it up, though; my dad was supposed to arrive any minute to pick me up and drive me across the city to the local swimming pool, where I had swim team practice in fifteen minutes.

We were cutting it kind of close.

I pulled out my mobile phone and sent her a quick text:

_Almost done?_

She replied almost instantly.

_Just shut up and keep hold of the wire. –SH_

I rolled my eyes. Hopefully that meant she was almost finished.

Leaning back against the cool railing, I let my eyes drift close. Spring was in the air, though it was only mid-February. A week or so ago, a heat wave had entered the region, melting the snow and causing mass flooding in the more mountainous areas of the state. I wasn't complaining at all – I was definitely a summer person.

Down below, on the street, cars zoomed past. A lorry truck rumbled by, carrying trash bags away from the city. School was out for the day; Sadie and I were the only ones still hanging around. That was good, though – the less people to witness whatever it was we're doing, the better.

I opened my eyes when I heard a vehicle pull in through the front drive of the school. It was a familiar silver car.

"Hi, Dad!" I yelled down as my dad slid out of the driver's seat. He looked around, confused. "Up here!" He tilted his head up. I waved my arm wildly.

Even from all the way on top of the school building, I could see his skin drain of all color. He stumbled back against the hood of our car, throwing an arm back to support himself.

"Liam!" he practically screamed. "What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" He covered his face with his hand. His shoulders were shaking violently.

"Uh, I'll be down in a minute," I shouted down at him.

Well, I hadn't expected him to be _angry _of all things. Maybe a little ticked that I was doing something dangerous, but to break down and sob?

I unraveled a few more yards of the wire and tied the spool to a steel post nearby. Sadie could function without me, I was sure. I sprinted to the ladder and threw my bag down the door. Then I descended after it.

The ladder to the roof let out in a storage closet on the fourth story of the building. I hadn't known there even was access to the roof at all, considering this was a middle school full of rowdy teenage dare devils. They could at least lock the hatch.

Cautiously, I peeked out the door to make sure no one was in the hallway. Luck was siding with me for once today, since there wasn't a soul in sight. Grinning, I slipped out and dashed to a staircase. I flew down the steps three at a time, taking sharp turns around the corners.

When I finally reached the commons, I slowed my pace, trying to act as if I'd been innocently getting help from a teacher or something, as there were still secretaries in the front office. I smiled at the pretty blonde with the red lipstick as I passed.

I shouldered my way out the front door. Dad had managed to compose himself a little, but he looked positively murderous.

"Uh, hi?" I said as I approached him. He shook his head and got back in the car, starting the ignition. I hesitated, but followed his lead and slid into the passenger's seat.

The silence was deafening as he backed out of the space and turned onto the main road. His eyebrows were furrowed in a furious glare, making him look sort of like a really angry hedgehog. His knuckles were stark white against the steering wheel.

I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he said, trying for an oblivious tone.

"For going on the school roof. I know it was dangerous, but –"

"You _damn _well know it's dangerous!" he barked suddenly, making me jump in my seat. "It was reckless, and stupid, and I don't care what your reasons were for being on there. I never want to see you on the roof of a bloody building again, understand?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"Jesus Christ, Liam, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to j – " He broke off, sounding like he'd choked on his own words.

"Trying to what?" I prompted softly, fiddling with the strap of my bag and most decidedly _not _looking at him.

He took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I thought y-you were trying to kill yourself or something by jumping."

"Oh." I blinked and fell silent. Then, another thought struck me. "Dad, erm, did you know someone who had… you know, jumped?"

He fixed his gaze on the red stoplight we were stopped at and tightened his grip on the wheel.

"Once. A long time ago."

I waited, wondering if he was going to tell me more, but he didn't. He never did.

**0-0-0-0**

Swim team practice that afternoon was grueling. Coach Davis pushed us harder than he'd ever done before, but I'd hardly paid attention. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier with the roof and my dad and all of that. By the end of the hour, though, my arms and legs were definitely feeling the ache that came with swimming twenty-and-a-half laps.

Dinner was a silent and miserable affair. Dad mostly just pushed the food around on his plate and ignored my half-hearted attempts at conversation. It was clear that he was still upset. I knew I shouldn't have asked about the reason he was so afraid of tall buildings. I know he hates talking about his past.

God, I was so _stupid _sometimes.

After I'd done the washing up, I decided to just leave him alone for the rest of the evening. I retired to my room and pulled out the book I'd been reading. _A Study in Pink, _it was called. I'd borrowed it from Sadie a few weeks ago.

It was absolutely thrilling. See, the story was about this genius detective who, I wasn't going to lie, somewhat reminded me of Sadie. Anyways, this detective and his new flat mate, from whose point of view the story is told, go around solving a string of "serial suicides".

Much to my irritation, however, Sadie had seen fit to black out every single name in the book besides the minor characters, which made it so extremely difficult to follow the plot. I'd taken to calling the detective 'Martin' and the flat mate 'James', for lack of better names.

I'd been reading it religiously over and over whenever I had the chance because it was just that good.

I had just gotten to the climax (again) where Martin and the cab driver are about to take the pills, when my phone chimed. I checked it. It was a text from Sadie, so I quickly opened it.

_They accepted me into their little 'club'. –SH_

I knew immediately what she was talking about; our school had started up this little club for people with naturally red hair. I thought for a moment before texting back:

_Anything suspicious? –Liam_

_Loads. Especially how none of them actually have naturally red hair. –SH_

_New case, then? –Liam_

_Definitely. Oh, and there's been a murder on Amelia Avenue. –SH  
_

_...and? –Liam_

_I found a blonde hair at the crime scene. –SH_

_Hoarding evidence again, are we? –Liam_

_As always. This particular blonde hair is interesting, though, seeing as it's been dyed a suspicious shade of ginger. –SH  
_

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**Author's Note: Annnnnnnd, I'm back! With the sequel! Finally! I apologize it's taken so long to get this up. I've been trying to keep up with homework and whatever, which leaves me with little time to write. But now that I've got the plot basically formed in my head, plus the extra time I'll have in my creative writing class, I hope to get chapters posted quite quickly. **

**I decided to keep with the spirit of the "online journal" thing I had going in the first chapter of Mirrors, hence the little blog entry at the top. Don't worry – that is not a regular thing. I'd only expect one with the first chapter of each new story. **

**Anyways, I hope this meets your expectations for the sequel! Please let me know what you think so far in a review!**

**Thanks!**

**-Sketch**


	2. The Devil's Children go to Public School

**Chapter 2: The Devil's Children Attend Public School.**

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"Dad?" I called out, taking the stairs two at a time. I'd moved into one of the second floor bedrooms after my leg had healed. "Where are you?"

"Living room," was his gruff reply. Still angry then, I gathered.

I stuck my head around the door that opened into the spacious room. We were still in the process of unpacking bits and bobs, so it was pretty bare. Well, except for the mantelpiece. That was the first thing to have excess items placed on it; pictures and a violin, to be precise.

Dad was in his favorite armchair, watching a football game on the television. A steaming mug of tea was on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up when I walked in.

"I'm going to Sadie's house. Is that alright?" I fetched my school bag from where I'd dumped it earlier that afternoon.

"Sort of late, isn't it?" His voice was so void of emotion, it almost made me sick.

I shrugged. "It's only seven-thirty. I won't stay long."

"Okay," he said simply, before turning his attention back to the game.

"Uh… bye, then?" I offered. He ignored me. Shaking my head, I retrieved my shoes and jacket from the entryway, and I left, taking care to lock the door behind me. God knows Dad wouldn't bother to lock it himself.

The Hooper's house was only four houses down from ours, which caused Sadie to figure that any time she needed me, it was perfectly acceptable to call, no matter the hour. "Well, it's not like it's a hassle for you to come over," she had said in her defense when she'd knocked on our door at two in the morning once.

I'd shut the door in her annoying face after that, and from then on, I made sure to lock every door and window in the house before bed to at least try and prevent her from getting in.

The sun was mid-way through setting as I scurried up her front steps and rang the doorbell. On cue, her two cats, Toby, Sr. and Toby, Jr. began to howl at me through the glass. I gave them each a little wave, which they returned with several hisses, snarls, and bared teeth.

"Anyone going to get the door?" Mr. Hooper yelled from inside. There was only silence in response. "Fine! I guess I'll get it, again."

This was the routine that occurred every time I came over since the beginning.

There was the sound of muffled stomps traipsing down the stairs, and the door flung open to reveal a very-annoyed Mr. Hooper, clad in his usual blue dressing gown and pajamas.

"Oh," he grumbled. "You again." He opened the door wider, turned back around, and stomped back up to the main floor, muttering, "Might as well get you your own key, since you're over here all the time…"

I crossed the threshold and closed the door with my elbow. I didn't wait for an invitation to come up; I was pretty certain that I could appear in their home at any time of day, and not a single one of them would even notice until I spoke up.

Mr. Hooper had retired to the sofa, and was now laying on his back with his palms together as if in prayer. I'd been over often enough to know that that was his thinking position. Toby, Jr. began to weave himself between my legs. To anyone else, it might look like a symbol of affection, but I knew that it was really an attempt to trip me and hopefully crack my skull. I really think he was starting to like me.

"I'm in the kitchen, William," I heard Sadie call.

"Not today, Toby," I muttered, picking up the giant cat and depositing him on the armchair nearest me. He growled unhappily.

"Took you long enough," Sadie snapped as I entered the kitchen. I ignored her and sat on one of the stools at the counter. Sadie herself was preparing a test tube of some sort of blue liquid by the sink.

"Sorry that I had to leave earlier."

She shrugged. "I managed without you. I finished feeding the wire through the vents, at least."

"Yeah, what was that all about, anyways?" I asked, spinning a stray paper clip around on the counter.

"It will mostly be a communication device, if I can get it to work. That way, the next time we get separated while in the vents and you forget your phone, we'll still have a way to communicate." She pushed a strand of her reddish-auburn hair behind her ear and set the test tube up on the window sill.

"What's that?" I pointed to the blue liquid.

"Hydrogen peroxide and blue food coloring," she muttered, adding another drop of blue dye to the mix. "My dad asked me to set it up. Anyways, check this out." From the pocket of her skirt, she withdrew a plastic baggie and slid it across from me. I plucked it off the counter and held it up to the light.

"So, you think the murder over on Amelia Avenue has something to do with the Ginger Society?"

"I definitely won't rule it out."

I huffed and let the baggie fall from between my fingers.

"Sadie, this is a _murder _we're talking about here. We shouldn't get involved."

She rolled her eyes and gave me a patronizing glare. "You can stay out of it if you want. I'm already involved, whether I like it or not –"

"Which you do," I cut in.

"You saw the signs, Liam. Just a few days after the problem with the statues, they suddenly appeared. There had been no such thing as a 'Ginger Society' before then. But as soon as we started making the papers, and a club strictly for red-haired people opened up. My hair color isn't exactly a secret, and they made it their mission to recruit me. And further more, not a single one of their hair color is naturally red. Explain that," she finished haughtily.

I shook my head. "Fine, fine. You win. They're connected or whatever."

She hesitated, thinking through my words. "That was sarcasm."

"No shit, Sadie."

"Don't swear."

"Please accept my humble and sincere apology, your highness."

"Seriously, stop with the sarcasm," she snarled, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "Do you want in on the case or not?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

She merely raised her eyebrows and waited for a more definite answer.

"Yeah, I'm in."

She smirked. "Thought so."

**0-0-0-0**

The next day after school, I called and told my dad that I was staying late for a service club meeting. Our school didn't even have a service club. I sort of felt bad for lying, but not really.

I ended up sitting in the commons with Hannah Elliot, my first friend here and hopefully, my future girlfriend. Well, I suppose I can always dream, right?

Hannah was small, blonde, loud, and also a cheerleader. And she was the one who had introduced me to Sadie.

School today had been a quiet, reserved occasion following the murder of Kate Jones on Amelia Avenue the previous night. I hadn't known Kate, but apparently she was a student at the local high school. The police really had no leads as to who had killed her, besides a few hairs that had been left behind at the crime scene which were the same as the one Sadie had.

We had an assembly before lunch that basically talked a lot about Kate's achievements in a sort of memorial for her. Sadie had been worried they would call off club meetings today in light of the tragedy, but they didn't, and so here we were, Hannah and I, waiting for the meeting to get over.

It didn't take long for the small talk to drift into more personal things, as it always did with Hannah. There was nothing she loved more than talking about feelings. Today, her subject was crushes.

"No, really, Hannah. I'm not going to tell you who I like."

"Please?" she whined, brown eyes big and pleading.

"Nope." I hugged my backpack closer to my chest and pulled my knees up.

"But, Liam –" she started to say, but she was cut off by the sudden appearance of a figure behind us.

Startled, I looked up into the smiling face of Elizabeth Tirmoary, new student.

"Hello, guys!" she sing-songed, dropping down to plop herself in between us.

Elizabeth Tirmoary and her twin brother, Eamon, were two of the weirdest people I had ever met. They had shown up three days ago, and with their slight Irish accents and dark charm, they had managed to wrap nearly everybody around neatly around their fingers. Both twins had dark brown hair and eyes to match.

I couldn't stand them.

I'm not sure why, but just being near either of them gave me a sinking feeling of dread.

Hannah was the exact opposite.

"Lizzie!" she cried, engulfing the other girl in a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm excellent," Elizabeth exclaimed, and after that, I just tuned the rest of the conversation out. I hoped the stupid ginger club meeting was over soon. Now I was anxious to go home to get away from Elizabeth. But at least Eamon wasn't here too.

"Did you and your dad have a fight last night, Liam?" Elizabeth's question knocked me out of my stupor.

I jerked my head around to face her. "How did you know that?" I demanded.

"And I'm sorry to hear about your mom," she added with an expression of fake sympathy.

"Who told you?" I growled. Hannah shrunk away from the two of us.

"No one told me," Elizabeth shrugged. "I just noticed."

I had never wanted to punch someone more in my life than that moment.

But before I could do anything stupid, Sadie entered the commons via a hallway across from where we were sitting. Thank God.

I shot up so quickly, I almost toppled over as my still-weak leg seized up under me. I ignored it and walked as fast as I possibly could over to where she was standing. For a moment, she looked confused, but then she saw Elizabeth and that stupid little smile, and it all seemed to click.

She grabbed my arm and towed me out of the building, ignoring Hannah's half-hearted goodbyes.

We were halfway down Center Street before Sadie began to talk.

"I was right; there is something really, really suspicious with the Ginger Society. I now have reason to suspect that there could be a potential mass attack on the school, which is so extremely pointless. Why select our school of all places? It's not as if we're some hugely influential place – _oh._" She said all of this without pausing for a breath.

"What?"

We turned the corner that led onto TARDIS Drive. I'd never worked out exactly what TARDIS stood for.

"Stay away from the Tirmoarys, Liam. That's all I'm going to say."

"You think they have something to do with this?"

But true to her word, that really was all she was going to say.

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**_Author's Note: _I'm so overjoyed that so many of you decided to stick around for the sequel! I loved reading all of your comments. You guys truly are the best readers anyone could ask for. **

**I apologize for how boring this chapter was. I promise that in the next chapters, there will be more action-y stuff. **

**So, Elizabeth and Eamon Tirmoary. What do you think of them so far? **

**Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Review!**

**-Sketch**


	3. The Gingers Strike Again - Probably

**Chapter 3: The Gingers Strike Again… Probably.**

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Whispers filled the hallways of Linford Middle School three days after the murder on Amelia Avenue. All day, I passed giggling girls on the way to my classes. They were huddled in groups, quietly talking and flailing and the other things girls do when they're smitten with someone. There was a suspicious amount of them hovering outside Room 122, the class that served as an English classroom during school hours and a detention after the final class was dismissed.

Apparently, we had a new teacher, and according to mostly everyone, he was quite the looker. I couldn't form my own opinion, though, since he wasn't _my _English instructor. And thank God he wasn't. I don't think I'd be able to handle sitting in a classroom of girls swooning over the teacher without wanting to throw something at the whiteboard. Hearing them at it in the halls was bad enough.

I wasn't the only one irritated at the 'darkly inebriating professor of linguistics', as I'd heard one guy in my geometry class put it. Sadie was raging. Her face was contorted into such a scowl that I was certain if she kept it up, it'd be stuck like that forever. She kept muttering indiscernible words under her breath, and whenever she passed a giggler, her fists would clench as if she'd like nothing more than to punch one of them in the jaw.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" I asked as we were sitting at lunch.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't say that, Liam. This isn't the twentieth century." She glowered down at her lunch tray, idly tossing an uneaten apple back and forth between hands.

"Fine, fine. What's your problem, then?" I took another bite of my peanut-butter sandwich.

"Do you have Mr. Drebber for English?" she asked.

I nearly choked on my food. _"Who?" _I demanded.

"Drebber, the new English teacher."

"He's _actually _teaching here?" I felt my fingers start to tremble as I set my sandwich down on my lunch tray.

Sadie looked shocked. "You know him?"

"I-I got sent to the principal's office once, and he was in there having a job interview. He's such a creeper." I decided to leave out the bit where he showed up at the Statue-Smasher crime scene a few weeks ago.

"That's an understatement," she said. "I'm disgusted by how these girls are fawning over him."

At that moment, a group passed by our table, squealing about how they were going to his classroom to talk to him. Sadie looked like she might throw up.

"From what I've heard," I said casually, "I'm surprised you aren't madly in love with him as well. He's supposedly sort of morbid, which seems to be your type."

"No. Never. Not in a million years would I ever be attracted to something as repulsive as Mr. Enoch Drebber." She flicked a potato crisp at me, which I dodged. "Don't ever say something like that again."

"I was joking," I clarified. "Well, mostly."

She shuddered.

**0-0-0-0**

That night, another person was murdered on Amelia Avenue (clearly, a popular spot with killers). This time, it was a young man named Adrian Sawyer, who had just returned from military service to his long-time girlfriend. Again, they didn't catch the killer.

Sadie paced wildly around my bedroom, waving her arms around like crazy, ranting to herself.

"It has to be them," she said, plucking up one of my books at random and flipping through it. "This doesn't make any sense whatsoever. The murder was carried out in the exact same way as the other, and yet, the police only recovered black hairs from the scene instead of red, like they should have been." She stacked the book on my desk.

This was how it'd been for the past twenty minutes. Systematically, she'd been removing all of my novels from my shelf, and one by one, taking them across the room to the growing pile on my desk, all while ranting endlessly about Adrian Sawyer, Kate Jones, and the Ginger Society.

I'd more or less tuned out at the five minute mark.

"Sadie," I interrupted her. "Do you mind putting my books back where they go?"

She added _The Mark of Athena _to the top of the stack. "No," she snapped. "I'm alphabetizing them."

I sighed and shook my head, getting up from where I'd been sitting on my bed and moving to stand in front of her. It was times like these when I wished I wasn't so short.

"Look," I began, "I really, _really _think you should stay out of it this time." She opened her mouth to cut in, but I stopped her. "No, listen. Last time, it was just some weirdo smashing statues, and you still got hurt. Remember?" I pointed to where a bullet had grazed her ribs. "This case is way too dangerous."

"You're not my mother, _William_," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"And thank the lord for that…" I ran my fingers through my hair. "Your parents don't even notice when you wander off to chase a psycho killer. Someone has to look after you."

"And you think _you _are the person to 'look after me'?" She snorted. "Why do you even care?"

"Because we're friends," I said simply.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered, turning sharply on her heel and stalking out the door. I let her go.

**0-0-0-0**

A few minutes later, I heard my dad walk up the stairs and pause outside my door. Without knocking, he cracked it open and stuck his head inside.

"Did you two get in a fight?" he asked cautiously.

"No."

"Liam, she stormed out of the house, and now you're flopped on your bed with your face in a pillow. It's not that tough to deduce you two are fighting," he said.

"We're not fighting." My voice came out muffled since I had a mouthful of pillow. "She's just a selfish, uncaring brat, and I don't know why I'm friends with her."

Dad sighed and entered the room, treading slowly over to my bed and sitting down next to my legs. "I had a friend once who was just like that."

"What?" I said, finally lifting my head to look at him. I turned over and sat up.

He nodded. "Oh, he was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, he was brilliant, but he was such a bastard. He was lazy, cold, and he didn't give a care in the world about anything except his job. Half the time, I couldn't fathom why I bothered to stay friends with him."

"Why did you?" I asked.

He gave me a sad half-smile. "Because we needed each other."

I let that sink in for a moment. Dad clapped a hand down on my shoulder and stood to leave.

Just as he'd gotten to the door, I said, "What ever happened to him? Your friend?"

Dad heaved a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. "He died."

At least he closed the door behind him on his way out.

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**Author's Note: Eeek! I'm so incredibly sorry about the wait! And then I only post a short chapter… I'm awful, I know.**

**But do you know who isn't awful? You guys aren't awful! You're brilliant, all of you! I can't believe the response I've gotten so far. It's absolutely incredible and I love you so much. **

**So, who's doing NaNoWriMo this year? I'm considering it, but the novel that I'm currently working on right now has me stumped, and there's no way I can finish it before the end of November. Oh, well, there's always next year.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! Review, please!**

**-Sketch**


	4. Lessons in Normality

**Chapter 4: Lessons in ****Normality**

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All day, I tried to find Sadie in the halls. I knew she was at school today, since her bag and coat were in the locker, but she was nowhere to be found. By lunch time, I was so frustrated with her skills of avoidance that I skipped eating all together and just went to the library. Books. Books were what I needed to calm me down.

Sitting in the grimy armchair in the far back corner, I cracked open the novel I'd taken from Sadie's locker a few days ago. _The Blind Banker_, it was called. Apparently, it was some sort of sequel to _A Study in Pink_, but I wasn't certain, as she'd once again scribbled out every name in the book, including the author's on the front cover.

Nevertheless, it was a good book.

_Bing. _

I grumbled as I fished my phone out of my jacket pocket. I just wanted to be left alone – why couldn't people see that? Stabbing the buttons with my index finger, I opened the text.

_We need to talk. –SH_

Sighing, I replied scathingly:

_No shit, Sadie. –Liam_

As was her way, the next text came almost immediately after I'd sent that last one.

_Meet me in the biology lab in five minutes. –SH _

_Whatever. –Liam_

Though I knew, of course, I'd show up anyways.

**0-0-0-0**

"Alright, what d'you need?" I said pushing through the lab doors. "And make it fast. I don't want to get detention again for being in here."

"Don't worry. I've got the teacher occupied for the next forty-five minutes at least," Sadie said, waving away my concerns. She was perched on the edge of one of the lab stations, and a lit Bunsen burner was flickering away next to her – she was roasting a marshmallow over it.

"Do I want to know what you did to the teacher?" I asked wearily, casting aside my backpack and pulling out a chair at a nearby desk.

She shrugged, a diabolical little grin crossing her face. "I put Gorilla Glue in her hair."

"You're actually evil."

"I'm aware." She sighed. "That's why I need your help. I need you to teach me how to be…" Face contorted into a grimace, she trailed off.

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"_Nice,_" she finally managed to spit out.

There was a brief pause of deathly silence, during which my jaw hit the floor. Her marshmallow caught on fire, but she didn't seem to have noticed. "_Nice?_"

"Nice," Sadie affirmed.

"No."

"Please?"

"It's impossible. Sadie Hooper, you are not capable of being _nice_. You can't even manage remotely friendly." Shaking my head, I stood to leave.

"Don't leave!" she said. "Liam, my mom said that if I can't learn to be nice, then I'll have to go to boarding school. I can't possibly go there." She shuddered, as if boarding school was the earthly equivalence of Hell.

"First of all, boarding school might be good for you. Second, you have to want to be nice yourself. You can't just be nice because someone else wants you to be."

She bit her lip. "But – and you can't tell anyone this – I _do _want to be nice. I'm sick of being treated like I'm a… a _freak_."

"You are a freak," I put in helpfully.

"I know I am," she admitted. "But I don't want to be anymore. Will you please help me?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine."

"Thank you. Oh, and by the way, you shouldn't sleep on your side like that. It's bad for your leg."

I rolled my eyes. Of course she'd know I had slept poorly last night. "Step one on being nice: quit making deductions about people."

Her eyes went wide. "I can't just turn it off."

"Well, then learn to keep them to yourself. Now, come on. I'm hungry."

**0-0-0-0**

Day two of teaching Sadie how to be a normal teenager wasn't going so well. Actually, she was adapting quite well, but that wasn't the problem.

I'd nearly bit a hole through the side of my cheek because of a nagging thought that wouldn't leave my mind: _I shouldn't try and change who she is._

As hard as I tried to, I couldn't push the guilt aside that I was doing the wrong thing by altering her personality. After all, wasn't her brilliant brain the reason I'd decided to stay friends with her?

Though, I fought back against the war raging in my head, it _would _be nice to have her act like a regular teenager for once.

"Liam," Hannah said to me as we sat in the commons after school. I barely registered her. "Liam? Liam!" She nudged me in the side painfully.

"Ouch! What?" I snapped, finally looking over.

"What's gotten into you today? You've barely said a word to me. Is something going on?"

"No," I mumbled.

"Did you break up with your girlfriend?" she teased.

"I don't have a girlfriend," I said.

"I know. I was kidding." She paused. "What's up?"

I groaned. Knowing that she'd pester me about it until the day I died, I finally said, "It's Sadie. She's trying to learn how to be normal."

"Is it not going very well?" Hannah asked.

I laughed once. "No, she's doing pretty great. I just feel guilty, that's all."

"Ah. I see." She frowned. "Maybe you should do something to take your mind off of it."

"Like what?" I muttered, absently kicking a crumpled wad of paper that was littering the carpet.

"Like you and I should go see a movie tomorrow night."

I looked up in alarm. "Just us? Alone?"

She nodded, her blonde curls bouncing. "That's the idea."

"Like… on a _date_?" I asked, face flushing red.

Giggling nervously, her head bobbed up and down once more.

"O-oh. Yeah. Okay. I'd like that."

Her face lit up with a huge smile, showing off her braces. "Awesome. Um, well, I should probably go… my mom's waiting out front." She pointed out the front doors to where a minivan was idling by the curb. Swiftly, she pecked me on the cheek and before I could say anything, she was skipping outside.

I sort of felt like skipping myself.

**0-0-0-0**

That evening, I walked over to Sadie's house. The world seemed so much brighter for some reason. It was all I could do not twirl as I went down the sidewalk – but I carefully refrained myself from doing that; I didn't want to give Mrs. Lembas across the street another reason to think I was crazy.

In a daze, I knocked on the door.

A split second later, it opened.

"Hi," Sadie said, looking stressed. "How are you?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I appreciate your attempts at a normal greeting, but that just sounds weird coming from you. You don't have to act this way in front of me."

Her rigid body visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping, and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank _God. _Come in," she said, stepping aside. I followed her up the stairs.

"Where are your cats?" I asked, looking around. It was odd – usually they were waiting right at the door to pounce on me the moment I came inside.

"I've put them away. Apparently, it's not nice to have your pets out and about while guests are over," she explained, leading me down the hall towards her bedroom.

"And where'd you learn that?"

In response, she pulled a small book out of her cotton skirt's pocket and tossed it to me. I glanced down at the cover. _How to be a Better Host_, the title read. A few pages had been dog-eared and the spine was bent.

"You're kidding me."

"Why would I joke about something like this?"

We passed the bright red door that I knew was her mute little brother's room. I'd never spoken to the kid, in fact, I'd hardly even seen him, but I did know he was called Hamish (Hammy, for short), which also happened to be the middle name of my dad. Sadie'd never explained how her parents had come up with such an uncommon name, even though I'd asked her on several occasions.

"Dunno," I said. "You just don't seem the type to turn to self-improvement manuals, do you?"

"The book also said never to insult your guests," she sniffed, "so I guess today's your lucky day."

Smirking, I trailed behind her into her bedroom.

At first, I thought we were in the wrong room; that's how drastically it had changed since the last time I was in here.

Gone were the newspaper articles that had previously covered every bare inch of wall space. A quick glance into the bin by her bed told me where they'd ended up. I recognized the article on top – _Suicide of Fake Genius_, dated some fifteen years prior.

The piano that had been shoved into one corner was absent, as was the microscope and test tubes that were once littering her desk. Her ceiling was missing the thousands of plastic stars, and the books about various criminal cases were no longer in her bookcase.

The room felt almost… _empty._

"I've reorganized," she said simply when she saw the expression on my face.

Marching over to the trash, I reached in and grabbed the articles. I waved them around at her. "No, Sadie. I'm done with this. You can't just change every aspect of your life. This is who you are."

"Not anymore," she growled, yanking the newspapers out of my hands and replacing them in the bin. "I've changed, and you need to accept that, whether you like it or not."

"What does your dad think about you basically giving up on detective stuff?" I said.

She tensed. "Doesn't matter what he thinks. He doesn't care."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Oh, don't you give me that. You _know _he cares."

"Obviously, you don't know him as well as I do. He doesn't give a second thought to anybody," she snapped, collapsing on her bed.

"That's not true." I took a seat at her desk. Then, changing the subject, I said, "So. How's the investigation going with the Ginger Society? I've been doing some research on my own, and a few years ago, there was a similar case in London –"

"I quit the club," she interrupted.

"_What_?" I looked over at her in alarm.

"I said, I quit the club. I've told you; I'm done with pretending to be a detective. I'm normal now."

"But, Sadie –" I began.

"Nope," she said sharply. "Nothing you can say can change my mind. How about we talk about your date with Hannah Elliot tomorrow night, instead?"

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

_**Author's Note: **_**Hey, everyone. I'm really sorry about the wait. I've been having a bit of writer's block with this story, and plus I'm currently working on another one, so… Yeah. I apologize. **

**Speaking of the other story I'm writing, it's a Lord of the Rings modern AU, so if you're interested, I'd appreciate it if you would check it out! **

**But anyways, thanks for all of the reviews for the last chapter, and I'm going to try and be more regular on updates for this. Also, if you haven't noticed, I've changed my penname from SketchbookPianist to DearCassius (I'm having an identity crisis right now).**

**Please review! Thanks!**

**-Sketch**


	5. My Date is Crashed - Literally

**Chapter 5: My Date is Crashed – Literally**

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

Dad snorted as I traipsed down the stairs into the kitchen, humming softly. "You look spiffy," he said, and then he shook his head. "Can't believe you're going on a date…"

"Better believe it, Dad, 'cause it's happening. Could you give me a lift to the theatre?" I asked, examining my reflection in a large silver spoon that had been left out on the counter. I ran my tongue over my teeth to ascertain that I'd brushed them. Minty flavor still resided. Good.

Dad stood, stretched his arms, and flung the newspaper he'd been reading back on the table.

Nodding my head towards the paper, I asked, "Anything good?"

"Nah," he said. "But there was a new development in those murder cases – apparently some busted surveillance cameras were found a few blocks away. Guess they're from the scene of the murder."

"Hmm," I murmured as I picked a stray thread off my sweater. "Can I go get in the car?"

**0-0-0-0**

Hannah was waiting for me at the cinema, all smiles and sunshine. A soda cup was clutched in her hand and when she saw me, she waved me over.

"Hi," I said breathlessly.

Her face flushed scarlet. "Hey."

"So."

"Yeah."

"Should we –"

"– tickets?"

There was a brief pause and then we both burst into giggles simultaneously.

"Sorry, I've never gone on a real date before," Hannah said. "I guess I'm sort of… nervous."

"Same." Kicking the concrete, I swiftly added, "Though it's a privilege to go on my first date with you, Hannah Elliot."

She nudged me playfully. "You're quite the gentleman, aren't you, Liam Watson?" We started walking towards the ticket booth. "Anyways, what do you want to see?"

"Um, well, I –" But I was abruptly cut off by an all-too familiar squealing.

"Hannah!" Elizabeth Tirmoary cried loudly, shoving her way in between us and throwing her arms around Hannah.

"Lizzie!" Hannah said. "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you with someone?"

"That would be me," another voice interrupted. It was Elizabeth's twin brother, Eamon.

I mentally groaned.

Okay, let me make something very clear: I really, _really _despised the two. Dunno why. But they gave me the creeps.

This would certainly be a night to remember.

"Eamon and I were going to see _Mastermind: 3D,_" Elizabeth said, curling her arm around Hannah's elbow. "You and Will should totally see it with us."

"My name is Liam," I mumbled, but everyone ignored me.

"That sounds like _so _much fun," Hannah gushed. "What do you think, Liam?" Her eyes were big and pleading.

Dammit.

"Yeah," I said weakly. "Sure."

"Fabulous!" Eamon said, plunking down a credit card on the ticket counter. "I'll pay."

**0-0-0-0**

I wished Sadie were here. I really, honestly did. This was turning out to be one of the worst nights of my entire life. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's true. It was miserable.

Shuffling my feet, I followed the three through the lobby, and after stopping for popcorn and soda – both of which I declined (because after all, I didn't put it past the twins to poison my drink) – we finally made it into the darkening theater.

"Let's sit in the front," Eamon declared the second we walked in. The previews were just starting to play. Nicolas Cage's face was flashing across the screen.

"Well, I kind of like sitting in the back," Hannah said, much to my relief. Because, really, who actually likes sitting in the front row? It just succeeds in making my neck sore, to be honest.

"But the front will be more exciting!" Elizabeth urged, tugging the blonde girl's hand down the aisle.

"Wait!" I said, speaking up for the first time. "Hannah has severe motion-sickness, and if she doesn't sit in the back, she'll vomit over everything."

Hannah gave me a mixed look of confusion and thankfulness. "Uh, yeah! I do. I – I get really sick."

Thank God, she was playing along. I'd totally made that story up on the spot. Maybe hanging around Sadie was paying off though and making me a better liar because the Tirmoary's seemed to buy into it, even if they didn't seem very pleased about it. And so, we turned around and made our way back up to the top row. It all seemed innocent enough.

But then, when they thought nobody was looking, I saw Eamon shoot Lizzie a nervous glance, which she shook her head at quickly. She muttered something under her breath, and he relaxed.

I couldn't do the same, though.

Something was up.

**0-0-0-0**

_Mastermind: 3D _was proving to be possibly the worst movie ever made. Maybe I was just bitter. Or maybe it was due to Elizabeth and Hannah whispering loudly next to me. Either way, I couldn't focus on the plot.

About half-way through, Eamon turned to me from his spot on my right. "This is great, isn't it?"

I shrugged, keeping my gaze straight ahead of me. With luck, he'd notice my body language and shove off.

"Will?" he pressed.

Squeezing my eyes shut angrily – I could swear they were using the wrong name on purpose – I slightly shifted to face him. "I think it's an incredibly dull movie," I spat.

He chuckled. "You've been spending too much time with that Hooper girl. Of course, everything must seem quite a bore to you now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said.

"Nothing, nothing," he sing-songed. Creep. "It's just, life away from the thrill of solving crimes is probably quite monotonous."

Bristling, I said, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Excellent, I'll join you," he said brightly, rising to follow me out the door.

As soon as we were back out in the light, I spun on my heel and put my hands on my hips. "What is your _deal?_" I demanded.

He blinked, eyes innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever," I growled. "You know what, I don't need to go to the toilet anymore. But please, go ahead without me." And with that, I stomped inside the theatre again.

I flopped back down in my seat, fuming, until Hannah finally noticed me. "Oh, you weren't gone long."

"Changed my mind," I said.

"Where's Eamon?" Elizabeth asked. Surprisingly, he hadn't followed me.

I shrugged. "I left him in the lobby. We had an argument. Almost punched him in the face."

"Liam!" Hannah exclaimed.

"I better go see to him," said, smiling coldly. And then she was gone as well, disappearing out the door and letting in just a ray of outside light in.

"I'm sorry," Hannah said. "I didn't want them to come with –"

I snorted.

"No, honest! But I couldn't just tell them no!"

Shaking my head, I replied, "I know… it was rude of them to invite themselves."

Hannah looked away awkwardly, her blonde hair falling in a sheet across her face. "If it's worth anything, though, I've had fun just being with you," she whispered.

And I was glad for the darkness of the theatre because it covered the furious blush that had spread across my face.

"I – I'm glad I came." I cleared my throat. "I like you, Hannah."

"Aww, I like you too." She smiled brilliantly. With a shaky hand, she reached up to cup the back of my neck in her soft hand.

Slowly, _slowly, _our heads leaned closer and closer. My breath was coming in short, panicky bursts – _oh, God, did I brush my teeth? _– and my heart was pounding like a stampede of charging elephants and _this was actually happening and –_

But just before our lips touched, the theatre went up in an explosion of dust, flame, and falling debris.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**Author's Note: Okay, I think we can confirm that I simply suck at writing suspense and action and cliffhangers. I'm sorry. Do I get a gold star for trying?**

**Anyways, are people still reading this? I'm working on three separate stories right now, and I want to try and update the most popular one before the other two, so please, if you're liking this, let me know so I can make it my priority. **

**Thank you, and please review and tell me what you think!**

**-Sketch**


	6. The Return of My Super Secret Admirer

**Chapter 6: The Return of My Super Secret Admirer**

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Ugh, what was that? Blearily, I opened my eyes to the white ceiling above me. My entire body ached, my head pounded, and it felt like a pile of bricks was crushing my chest. Groaning, I relaxed into the pillows behind my head. What had happened?

Car. Crash. Crutches. London. Airport. Airplane. America. New school. Sadie. Statues. Hannah…

Oh. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to me. Explosion, yes.

Shaking, I managed to raise myself into a sitting position, but then a wave of nausea overcame me, and I snatched a blue, plastic basin that was on my bedside table – how convenient.

After I emptied the contents of my already mostly empty stomach – it was basically dry retching – I set the basin back where I'd found it, wrinkling my nose at the smell.

The room was silent – aside from the continuous bleating of the heart monitor, which was, quite frankly, a little annoying. Though, it was reassuring to know that I was alive.

My eyes flickered over to the window. From my vantage point, I could see the overcast sky, promising rain. A hunched figure sat underneath the sill on a hard, plastic chair.

It was my dad. He was sleeping.

And as much as I hated to wake him, I needed answers, so I cleared my throat as loudly as possible. He stirred slightly, sniffed, but otherwise remained the realm of dreams.

"_Dad_," I whisper-shouted. My voice was hoarse. Again, no response.

Right. Time for a more violent approach.

There was a pad of legal notes also on my bedside table. Reaching through the tubes coming out of my nose, I tore off a sheet and crumpled it into a tight wad. The ball soared through the air easily and bounced off his head.

His eyes snapped open and he lurched out of his chair, arms and legs automatically going into a fighting stance. I merely leaned back against the headboard of the bed and folded my arms, waiting for this to pass.

A few seconds later, he must have realized where he was because he quickly relaxed. "Liam!" he exclaimed, face breaking into an exhausted grin.

"Hi, Dad," I smiled back. "Sorry to wake you, but what happened?"

He groaned, coming over and sitting on the mattress, near my feet. "I'm not sure. The police aren't releasing any details. All I know is that you were involved in a movie theater explosion about –" he checked his watch "– three days ago. Been out cold ever since."

"Oh. Did anybody…?"

"There were nine casualties," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Who?" I asked.

He didn't reply.

"_Who?_" I demanded, and I could hear my voice shoot up a couple of octaves.

Dad hung his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Liam. Your friend – Hannah didn't make it."

**0-0-0-0**

For a fourteen year old, I've been in this situation too many times. First, my mother. Now, one of my best friends.

_Not as bad. _

Of course, the two cases were completely different. I mean, my mum was my mum. I'd known her for literally my entire life. She'd raised me, taught me, loved me.

_Not as bad. _

Hannah was just a girl who I'd known for a couple of months.

Yeah, not as bad, I agreed, but bad enough.

Dad had exited the room about a half-hour ago to "Give me time to think", as he'd put it. Now the only occupants of the closet sized space were me and my good friend, the heart monitor, which was still beeping monotonously in the corner.

A stray tear trickled out of the corner of my tightly-closed eyes. It trailed down my cheek and hit the pillow below with a soft thud. Okay, this was good. At least I was avoiding the amount of tears I'd shed when Mum had… when Mum had gone.

It wasn't _fair. _Why was this happening to me? I was just a kid. What had I ever done to deserve this? Sure, when I was eleven, I'd stolen a pack of gum from the corner shop, but only because my mates had dared me to. And I'd taken it back once they'd gone home. But other than that, I figured I wasn't really that bad of a person.

I just wanted my mother back.

The door to my room flew open just then, and a certain someone darted in, skidded across the floor, and finally ended up perched at the edge of my bed. After her trailed her own mother and her little brother, Hammy.

"Hi, Sadie," I said in a low voice, frantically scrubbing at my face to remove any signs that would indicate I had cried. "Hi, Mrs. Hooper and Hammy."

I turned my head to look at the two by the door, purposefully avoiding looking at Sadie. Mrs. Hooper smiled slightly at me, toying with the hem of her sweater. Hammy was toting around a stuffed polar bear and gave no indication that he'd heard me. In fact, he seemed unconcerned with what was going on.

I wish I could be him.

"Hello, William," Mrs. Hooper said warmly, approaching my bedside. "H-how are you feeling?"

Shrugging, I replied, "I've been better."

"Sadie had quite a scare when she heard the news," she said, nodding at her daughter. Finally, I shifted to look at her.

Sadie was now crouched on the bed, arms tightly hugging her knees, and she was staring at me with scrunched eyebrows and a look of intense concentration. Ah. Yes. Deducing me.

But the long-winded analysis of minute details never came. Instead, she simply finished up figuring out my facial expressions, slid off the bed, and stepped away.

Mrs. Hooper had been watching her watch me with pursed lips. Maybe that's why Sadie didn't tell me everything I was thinking and then some – she was scared of her mum.

"Anyways, Liam," her mother said, looking back to me when she was satisfied Sadie wasn't going to insult me, "Are you hungry? Hammy wants to go down to the cafeteria, and… and if you'd like, we could bring you back something."

Hammy didn't look like he wanted much of anything, but I nodded, saying, "That would be great, Mrs. Hooper. Thank you."

She smiled again and pulled Hammy out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"What?" I asked. "Aren't you going to… do that thing you do?"

"Nope," she said. "I've changed."

I nodded. Of course she had. "Were you really worried about me?"

She snorted, walking over and collapsing into the chair next to me. "Why would I worry about you?"

Pretending to grimace, I put my hand over my heart. "Ouch. That hurt." Sarcasm was practically dripping from my tone. She rolled her eyes.

"I brought you something." Sadie reached into her pocket and pulled out a slightly crushed white envelope. On the front were the words _Mr. William Sherlock Watson. _

It looked oddly familiar. "Where'd you get this?" I asked, attempting to conceal the tremor in my voice.

"It was in our locker about two days ago." She tossed it on the sheets. "I haven't opened it."

I picked it up and slit the top open with my fingernail before flipping it over and shaking out its contents. A single piece of folded grey stationary fluttered out.

_Dear Mr. Watson,_

_This is only the beginning. Take care that both you and your daddy mind your own business, or you might find yourself walking down memory lane once again. _

_Tread lightly._

_Love, _

_Your Secret Admirer _

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**Author's Note: Dang, I've done it again. I really need to get on a better updating schedule. School's just been tough lately, what with Track/Field taking up most of my free time, and the fact that I'm currently working on a full length novel that will (hopefully) be worth publishing. **

**Anyways, thanks so much for reviewing the last chapter everyone! And a very special shout-out to noukinav018 for basically reviewing every single chapter – you're fabulous, noukinav! **

**Please review, and tell me what you think!**

**-Cass**


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